Harry Potter and the Interrupted Timeline
by mochieay
Summary: When Harry dies in the Forbidden Forest, he thinks he has sacrificed everything for the greater good. When he awakens to find he has a chance to change his past mistakes, he will stop at nothing to make his life better. Starts at the end of chapter 33 in the Deathly Hallows. AU. Timetravel. Slytherin!Harry. Dumbledore!Bashing. eventual HP/?
1. The Forest Again

Finally, the truth. Harry's job was to welcome death at the hands of his greatest enemy. Neither would live, neither could survive.

He felt his heart pounding in his chest. How strange that in his dread of death, it pumped all the harder, valiantly keeping him alive. But it would have to stop, and soon. Its beats were numbered. Life was over, Harry knew it, and all that was left was the thing itself: dying.

Slowly, very slowly, Harry sat up.

Dumbledore's betrayal meant everything. There had always been a larger plan: Harry had simply been too foolish to see it. He realized that now. He had always assumed that Dumbledore wanted him to live, but he was wrong. To Dumbledore, his life span had always been determined by how long it took to eliminate the Horcruxes. He had been manipulated for the greater good

Dumbledore had known that Harry would persevere, that he would keep going to the end, even though it was his end. He knew this because he had taken trouble to get to know Harry, hadn't he? Dumbledore had proved himself a more strategic game player than Ron had ever been during a game of chess. Dumbledore knew that Harry would never let anyone die if he had the power to stop it.

There would be no good-byes and no explanations for Ron and Hermione, of that Harry was certain. This was a journey they would not take together.

He did not look back as he closed the office door. He could not.

As descended through the castle, Harry pulled the invisibility cloak over his head. He hoped that he would be noticed. That somebody would stop him from doing what must be done. But the Cloak was perfect and he reached door without hindrance.

Hagrid's hut was nested in darkness. On this night, unlike so many before it, there were no lights, no sound of Fang scrabbling at the door. All those visits to Hagrid, the rock cakes, and his great big face, and Ron vomiting slugs, saving Norbert...

Harry moved towards the edge of the forest.

Then, as he stood staring into the dark trees that held so many memories, he paused. Harry was trembling as hard as any tree in the forbidden forest had ever trembled in the wind. It was not, after all, so easy to die. Every second he breathed, the smell of the grass, the cool air on his face, was so precious. He could not make himself go on, yet he must. The long game was ended, the Snitch had been caught, and it was time to leave the air...

The Snitch. I open at the close.

Breathing fast and hard, Harry fumbled in his pocket. He couldn't find it. Had it slipped through a hole in his pocket? Wait. Harry's fingers grasped the cool metal as he pulled the gold ball into the dark night's air.

As he kissed the metal of the snitch, Harry whispered the fated words, "I am about to die."

The metal shell fell open, crumbling under Harry's fingertips leaving a coal-black stone in its place.

And again Harry understood without having to think. It was the Hallows. The cloak, the stone, and the wand. Death wanted them brought together.

Harry continued on, traveling deeper and deeper into the dark forest, with no idea where exactly Voldemort was, but sure that finding him would bring the end.

He had traveled mere minutes when Harry saw light ahead. Harry knew the clearing had been the place where Hagrid's monstrous Aragog had lived. All that was left of the spider's home were tangles of cobwebs drifting in the night's chill. Harry looked at the clearing, assessing it.

Death Eaters were bathed in the glow of a fire situated in the middle of the clearing. Some of them were masked and hooded; others proudly displayed their faces. Harry saw a defeated and frightened Lucius Malfoy and his wife Narcissa, whose eyes were sunken and full of trepidation.

Every eye was fixed upon the thing that used to be Tom Riddle, who stood with his head bowed, and his white hands folded over the Elder Wand.

Voldemort looked up.

"I thought he would come," said Voldemort in his high, clear voice, his eyes on the leaping flames. "I expected him to come"

None of the Death Eater's dared to speak. They were as scared as Harry. Harry's hands were sweating as he reluctantly pulled off his invisibility cloak.

"I was, it seems... mistaken," said Voldemort.

"You weren't."

Harry spoke with all the force he could muster. He would not show his fear. At that moment, nobody mattered but Voldemort and Harry. The world was just the two of them.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort said softly. "The Boy Who Lived."

Nobody moved. They were waiting. Harry thought suddenly of Ginny, and her blazing eyes, and the feel of her soft lips moving against his own. Voldemort raised his wand. Harry looked into the red eyes, begging Voldemort to cast the spell, quickly, before he betrayed his fear.

Harry saw the mouth move and a familiar flash of green light, then everything was gone.

* * *

Harry became conscious of the fact that he was lying naked on the ground. What had he done last night? Memories came rushing through his cranium. The cloak. The forest. The snitch. Voldemort. The wand. Dying. Little details like that.

As if by some hidden cue, Harry heard a slow ominous noise through the gloom: footsteps. He quickly sat up. Albus Dumbledore was walking toward him, inexplicably wearing midnight blue robes.

For the first time, Harry wished he were clothed.

Dumbledore's long beard, the twinkle behind piercing eyes: Everything was exactly as it had always been. And yet...

"You're dead," stated Harry.

"Am I?" came the reply.

They looked at each other, the old man beaming.

"Explain yourself," said Harry, never one to mince his words.

"But you already know," said Dumbledore, twiddling his thumbs in the way that had always secretly annoyed Harry.

"You planned for Snape to kill you." It was accusing, but it seemed that Dumbledore was planning to ignore Harry's tone.

"I admit that was my intention," intoned Dumbledore, "but it did not work as I intended, did it?"

"Nothing worked out as you intended," spat Harry.

The old man just stared at him, smiling in his manner that proclaimed that Dumbledore was not going to share his knowledge.

Dumbledore was being infuriating. Harry glared at him. After what felt like an eternity, and very well may have been, Harry decided on what to ask the man

"The Deathly Hallows," Harry questioned, glad to see that the words wiped the smile from his mentor's face.

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore said. He looked a little worried.

"Well?"

For the first time since Harry had met Dumbledore, he looked less than an old man, much less. He looked fleetingly like a small boy caught in wrongdoing.

"Can you forgive me?" he said. "Can you forgive me for not trusting you? For not telling you? Harry, I only feared that you would fail as I had failed. I only dreaded that you would make my mistakes. I crave your pardon, Harry. I have known, for some time now, that you are the better man."

"What?" asked Harry, startled by Dumbledore's tone, by the sudden tears in his eyes. Was this another game? Another cruel manipulation designed to make Harry do exactly as he planned? Or was Dumbledore truly sorry for his actions.

"The Hallows, the Hallows," murmured Dumbledore. "A desperate man's dream!"

"But they're real!"

"Real, and dangerous, and a lure for fools," said Dumbledore. "And I was such a fool. But you know, don't you? I have no secrets from you anymore. You know."

"What do I know?" Harry wasn't fool enough to believe that Dumbledore had no secrets from him. Dumbledore would always, alive or dead, have secrets.

"Master of death, Harry, master of Death! Was I better, ultimately, than Voldemort?"

"I'm not so sure anymore," said Harry quietly, but Dumbledore did not seem to hear him.

"True, I never killed if I could avoid it" Dumbledore seemed to be speaking to himself. "Yet I too sought a way to conquer death, Harry."

"Hallows," murmured Dumbledore, "not Horcruxes, not precisely."

"Grindelwald was looking for them too?" Harry sought the connection between the two men.

Dumbledore closed his eyes, as if in pain from the name, and nodded.

"It was the thing, above all, that drew us together," he said quietly. "Two clever, arrogant boys with a shared obsession. He wanted to come to Godric's Hollow, as I am sure you have guessed, because of the grave of Ignotus Peverell. He wanted to explore the place the third brother had died."

"So it's true?" asked Harry, startled. Though he had heard the tale and collected the artifacts he had never really believed. "All of it? The Peverell brothers?"

"Were the three brothers of the tale," said Dumbledore, nodding. "Oh yes, I think so. Whether they met Death on a lonely road..." He paused for emphasis before he continued.

"The Cloak traveled down through the ages, father to son, right down to Ignotus's last living descendant, who was born, as Ignotus was, in the village of Godric's Hollow."

Dumbledore pointedly looked at Harry.

"Me?!" Why hadn't Dumbledore ever felt this was information worth sharing with Harry?

"The Cloak was in my possession on the night your parents died. James showed it to me just a few days previously. I asked to borrow it. I could not resist, could not help taking a closer look... and then your father died, and I had two Hallows at last, all to myself!"

His tone was not as bittersweet as Harry would have liked. He seemed almost pleased.

"I was gifted, I was brilliant. I wanted to escape. I wanted to shine. I wanted glory."

Dumbledore seemed to grow taller and darker as he spoke the words. Harry was suddenly afraid. It came to him that there was a reason Voldemort was scared of Dumbledore. Dumbledore was a much larger threat than Tom Riddle had ever been.

"Do not misunderstand me," the man said "I had a few scruples. I knew it would be for the greater good, and any harm done would be repaid a hundredfold in benefits for wizards."

Harry could no longer bring himself to believe the words that Dumbledore was saying. Greater good? What gave Dumbledore the right to decide what the greater good was?

"Grindelwald. You cannot imagine how his ideas caught me, Harry, inflamed me. Muggles forced into subservience. We wizards triumphant. Grindelwald and I, the glorious young leaders of the revolution."

"And at the heart of our schemes, the Deathly Hallows! How they fascinated him, how they fascinated both of us! The unbeatable wand, the weapon that would lead us to power! The Resurrection Stone"

"And the Cloak... somehow, we never discussed the Cloak much, Harry. Both of us could conceal ourselves well enough without the Cloak, the true magic of which, of course, is that it can be used to protect and shield others as well as its owner. But our interest in the Cloak was mainly that it completed the trio, for the legend said that the man who had united all three objects would then be truly master of death, which we took to mean 'invincible.'"

"Invincible masters of death, Grindelwald and Dumbledore!"

Dumbledore gave a little gasp of excitement. It frightened Harry. Had Dumbledore always been this mad or had death perverted his memory?

Suddenly Dumbledore seemed to remember Harry in front of him. The air of darkness surrounding him seemed to vanish. In its place was Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Harry's mentor.

"Where would you say that we are?" the old man asked.

"It looks," Harry said hesitantly, not sure how much information to share with Dumbledore, "like King's Cross station. Except a lot cleaner and empty, and there are no trains as far as I can see."

"King's Cross station!" Dumbledore was chuckling. "Good gracious, really?"

"Well, where do you think we are?" asked Harry, defensively.

"My dear boy, I have no idea."

A sudden thought struck Harry. "I've got to go back, haven't I?"

"Don't we always," Dumbledore smiled at him. "We are in King's Cross you say? I think that you must choose a destination and... board a train."

Harry became aware of the signs flashing beside each of the platforms. They seemed to go on forever. For a minute he thought they were places. Some had innocuous names such as 'The Burrow', 'Little Wingham', 'Malfoy Manor', 'The Great Hall'. Others had names that Harry couldn't quite connect to places: 'The House Cup, 'The Diary'. Others still were names, 'Draco Malfoy', 'Charlie Weasley', 'Seamus Finnegan'.

As if by divination, Harry understood. They weren't places, or things, or even people. They were memories; his memories more specifically.

Harry had a choice. He had a chance. A chance to go back to a moment in his life and change the way that things would happen. All of the deaths, all of the pain. Fred, Tonks, Remus, Cedric. He had a chance to redo it all. He only needed to choose the right moment.


	2. A Letter From No One

-AUTHORS NOTE-

I wanted to thank everyone for their support. It was completely unexpected. Just so you know I have this fic entirely written, and I am starting on the second installment today, so I will be updating it regularly (once or twice a week unless I decide to upload a few chapters at once)

DISCLAIMER- I'm not J.K. and do not claim to be. She is an artist and I am merely the admirer. I'm just borrowing her characters to play with a little bit.

* * *

"Up! Get Up! Now!"

Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again.

"Up!" She screeched. Harry heard her walking towards the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the cooker. He rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. There had been talking hats, snakes in the drainpipes, a rat that turned into a man, mermaids, a room that managed to do exactly what it was told, a fancy book that let him make wonderful concoctions in big pot, and camping. And there had been a train station, but that part was a little confusing. Harry had never been on a train before. He had a funny feeling he'd been in that dream before.

His aunt was back outside the door.

"Are you up yet?" She demanded in her shrill voice.

"Nearly," Harry wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep and forget the voices in the hall.

"Well get a move on. I'm dyeing some of Dudley's old school things grey for you and I need someone to drain the water."

Harry tried not to think about how hideous his new uniform would be. He would probably look like he was wearing a wrinkly bit of old elephant skin.

After poking his head around under the covers for a few minutes Harry emerged triumphantly with a pair of old worn socks….with a spider attached. He brushed the small creature to the ground as he pulled on his clothes and exited into the hallway. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that's where he slept.

As Harry drained the last of the water from the pot containing his uniform, his fat uncle and lazy cousin wandered into the room. Uncle Vernon was no doubt about to comment on the rotten stench which permeated the room when he a small click of the letterbox was heard down the front hall.

"Get the post Dudley" he bellowed, eying the bacon sitting on the table.

"Make Harry get it."

"Get the post, Harry."

"Make Dudley get it."

"Poke him with your smelting stick Dudley."

As Harry dodged his cousin's stick he slipped on the water and fell on his face. If he was lucky the fall wouldn't leave a purple bruise marring his face. The snickers from both his uncle and cousin did not go unnoticed. Grumbling in his head, Harry made his way down the hall to collect the post.

Out of all the strange things that had happened in Harry's life, including that incident with the snake a few weeks back, nothing shocked Harry more than what he saw in front of him. It was a letter. Addressed to him!

_Mr. H. Potter_

_The Cupboard Under the Stairs_

_Little Winging_

_Surrey_

The envelope was thick and heavy, written on yellowing paper unlike any Harry had ever seen before. There was no return address, no postmark, no stamp even. Strangest of all was the purple wax seal on the back emblazoned with a lion, an eagle, a badger, and the snake, all surrounding the letter 'H'. Did it stand for Harry?

Harry pressed his fingers to the seal, slid them under the edge of the envelope, listening to the satisfisfying crinkle as the letter started to open underneath his fingers-

"Hurry up, BOY!" came a call from the kitchen, "What are you doing? Checking for anthrax?"

Harry made is way to the kitchen, attempting to hide the envelope in his trouser pockets. Unfortunately, Uncle Vernon had been ready to glare at Harry as he came into the room, so he noticed harry tuck away the envelope.

"What have you got there, boy" Harry wanted to hit the man, that letter was his! "Trying to steal from me? You'll regret it, boy!"

As Vernon snatched the letter from Harry's fingertips he slammed his fist against the back of his head. It didn't hurt that badly, Harry had received far worse from his cousin Dudley before.

Uncle Vernon's greasy fingers examined ran over the letter mark on the front of the envelope before ripping the paper open. Instantly, Vernon's face turned to the tomato red shade it had when Harry had been found on the roof at school. Harry backed away from the man quickly.

Uncle Vernon tried to speak, "Gwhaa," but all that came out was a random gurgling sound.

He was gasping for air now. Was he having a heart attack? Harry hoped so…

Uncle Vernon looked a little green, wait no. He was gray now. Maybe there was anthrax in the letter? Was this what an anthrax attack looked like?

"P-P-Petunia!" he choked out.

Calmly, as though the reaction of her dearest husband was completely normal, Aunt Petunia reached for the envelope. Her eyes scanned the letter. She seemed to be taking whatever was in the envelope with ease.

'THUMP'

Apparently, not taking it with ease. Aunt Petunia had fainted.

"G-G-Get out Boys! Both of you!" croaked Uncle Vernon as he took the letter back from his wife. "OUT!"

Harry was about to open his mouth and ask to read his letter, but his jaw quickly closed. Don't ask questions-that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys.

Both Harry and Dudley listened at the door, Dudley at the keyhole, and Harry flat on his stomach listening at the crack under the door.

"Look at the address-how could they possibly know where he sleeps? Are they watching the house?" Vernon seemed to be talking to himself, but he may have been talking to Aunt Petunia passed out on the floor.

"Watching-spying- might be following us." The floorboards creaked under his frantic pacing.

"But what should we do, should we write back and tell them we don't want-"Abruptly, as if lost in thought, Vernon stopped both his pacing and his muttering.

"No," he finally decided after a few tense moments, "No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get a answer….yes. That's best…we won't do anything.

Who are _They,_ Harry thought to himself. And why would they want to write to Harry?

Without warning, the kitchen door flew open. The letter was nowhere in sight. Uncle Vernon looked at Harry, then at Dudley. Finally his eyes seemed to settle on the floor by their feet.

"Er-yes, Harry-about your cupboard. Your aunt and I were thinking that you're getting a bit big for it…we think it might be nice for you to move into Dudley's second bedroom." He had a painful looking smile on his face.

"I don't want him there…I NEED that room…. Do't give it to him…" Dudley wept as he glared at Harry.

"Why?" asked Harry, who was startled by this sudden turn.

"Don't ask questions!"

* * *

The next morning at breakfast, the room was silent. Dudley was pouting. Harry was thoughtful. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Dursleys were glancing at each other anxiously. The room was, in one word, tense.

When the post arrived, Dudley was made to fetch it. Harry never thought he would be upset that his cousin was made to do a chore, but he was proven wrong. From the front hall game a shout.

"There's another one! _Mr. H. Potter, The Smallest Bedroom_, _4 Privet Drive-"_

Uncle Vernon flew out of his seat and down the hall. Harry was flabbergasted. He hadn't thought the old man could run.

"Go to your cupboard-I mean your room" he wheezed at Harry, "Dudley…just. Just go"

* * *

The next morning, Harry snuck down at six to check for the post. He wanted his letter!

Unfortunately, Uncle Vernon seemed to have the same plan. He was asleep against the door frame, waiting for the post to fall into his lap. Literally. As the letter box creaked open, Uncle Vernon caught sight of Harry. He seemed to take malicious glee in ripping up the letters right in front of Harry's face. Every. Single. One. Even the regular post.

* * *

On Friday, twelve letters appeared for Harry, but they couldn't fit through the letter box. The day before Uncle Vernon had nailed it closed using a piece of fruitcake as a hammer. Somehow, the letters were shoved and scrunched under the door, and through the window in the downstairs wash cupboard.

* * *

By Saturday, things were getting out of hand. Twenty-four letters addressed to Harry on yellow parchment with green ink found their way into the Dursley's house. They were tucked into each of the eggs Aunt Petunia cracked open for breakfast.

* * *

On Sunday, Uncle Vernon sat down to breakfast with a look of glee on his face.

"Why am I so happy, boys?" he asked.

Dudley just looked confused,

"No post on Sundays" Harry muttered.

"That's right, boy" Vernon replied with a grin, "no damn letters today!"

Suddenly, something came flying out of the chimney and broke Vernon's cup of morning tea. A second later it was followed by sheets and sheets of yellow paper. They were letters!

"We're under attack!" Dudley shouted, diving under the table.

Harry leapt to his feet, jumping over his cousin as he flew into the air to grab a letter. Uncle Vernon seized Harry around the waist and threw him into the hall before he had a chance to even touch the strange paper.

"That does it!" Came Uncle Vernon's voice, "We're going away. No arguments"

No one dared to argue.

* * *

They drove. And they drove. And they drove some more. Harry had no idea where they could possibly be going. They didn't stop driving all day.

Finally, they stopped at what looked like a dingy hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Harry couldn't fall asleep no matter how hard he tried. He kept thinking about the letters…

In the morning, Harry was awoken by a sharp knock rapping against the doorframe. When Uncle Vernon opened the room to find the owner of the hotel.

"Scuse me, but is one of you Mr. H. Potter, I've only got about a 'undred of these at the front desk" She held a yellowing envelope in her hand which read:

_Mr. H. Potter_

_Room 17_

_Railview Hotel_

_Cokeworth_

Vernon slammed the door in her face

* * *

"Daddy's gone mad hasn't he?" Dudley asked Aunt Petunia later that afternoon. Uncle Vernon had parked the car at the coast and locked them all in the car. Aunt Petunia merely nodded.

It was pouring rain, as it can only do on the British coastline. Dudley snivelled.

Harry sat miserably in his seat. Tomorrow was his birthday. He had a feeling it was going to be the worst birthday ever, not that the others were particularly pleasant. Last year he received a coat hanger and a pair of Vernon's old socks.

Uncle Vernon returned, smiling.

"Found the perfect place!" he said, "Storm's coming tonight, and this kind gentleman's kindly agreed to lend us his boat!"

After what seemed like hours, they reached a broken down cottage perched on the edge of a cliff. It was rickety. The wind and wind seemed to seep through the planks of wood which were supposed to be walls, but it may have just been coming through the holes.

Despite his best efforts, Harry couldn't sleep. He shivered, and turned, and tried to get comfortable. It was his birthday in five minutes and he was stuck in the middle of the ocean under a smelly old blanket.

One minute to go, then he would be eleven. Thirty seconds….twenty….ten-nine-maybe he'd wake up Dudley just to annoy him-three-two-one

BOOM

Harry sat bolt upright. Someone was outside. Someone was trying to get in.


	3. Keeper of the Keys

-AUTHORS NOTE-

Once again, thanks for all the support. I'm still surprised that anyone is reading this at all. Don't worry about Harry not remembering in the last chapter. All will be sorted out in time. And as for the constructive criticism by an anonymous reviewer (which I do appreciate, I'd just rather it wasn't anonymous), well the last chapter was similar to the books, don't you think that Harry would take a few days before he realized what was going on and start changing things? He did just come back from the dead after all...

DISCLAIMER- I own none of the characters, they all belong to the lovely Ms. J.K...please don't sue me.

* * *

SMASH!

The door swung, its hinges straining under the pressure from some unseen force. With a deafening crash the hinges snapped under the strain nd the door fell to the floor.

Harry watched with surprisingly less fear than he thought was strictly appropriate as a giant stepped through the door. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard. Why did this man seem so familiar?

Abruptly, Dudley squeaked with terror and hid behind his mother who was crouching behind Uncle Vernon.

"An' here's Harry," said the giant. How did he know Harry's name? "Las' time I saw ya, you was only a baby."

Harry was quite certain he would have remembered meeting a giant, whether he was a baby or not. Yet all he got was a vague feeling of familiarity. Who was this man? "Yeh look like yeh da, but ya got your mum's eyes."

Uncle Vernon's face went that strange red color again. He was grasping for air. It seemed he was having another episode.

"I'm demanding you leave at once, sir!" he said.

"Ah, shut up Dursley you old prune," said the giant. Harry secretly agreed with the man's assessment, not that he would ever vocalize it. Still, it seemed odd that someone would come all this way and know exactly who they all were.

"Anyway- Harry," said the giant, turning his back on the Dursleys, "a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer ya here-might have sat on it at some point-but it'll taste all right."

Harry felt sick to his stomach. He WAS NOT going to eat something that a random giant had on sat on. That was disgusting.

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out an extremely squashed box. Inside was a sticky chocolate cake with green icing that read- _Happy Birthday Harry._ Green was Harry's favorite color. How did the giant know that? It was slightly creepy actually...

"Who are you?" It seemed rather rude once Harry had said it, but he couldn't bring himself to mind.

""Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts." The giant held out a hand. Harry didn't take it.

Harry was more confused than before he asked the question. After several seconds he realized that the man, Mr. Hagrid, he reminded himself, was not offering any more information.

"I don't really know who you are," Harry ventured.

"You can call me Hagrid," the giant said. "Everyone does. An' like I told yeh, I'm the Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts- yeh'll know all about Hogwarts of course."

Harry was struck with a warm feeling throughout his chest. The word home flashed through his head. But it was gone as quickly as it came. Harry was still confused.

"Er-no." He said, for lack of a better response. Hogwarts. Was this man some kind of farmer? Or maybe he looked after animals with warts.

Harry remembered the curious letter 'H' affixed to the mysterious letters he had been sent. Perhaps 'H' stood for Hogwarts, and not Harry. Why would he receive a letter from such a strange sounding place?

Hagrid looked shocked. "I knew eh were't gettin' yur letters, but I never thought yeh woudn' even know about Hogwarts. Blimey! Where'd ya think yer parents learned it all?"

Hagrid certainly had an odd way of speaking, Harry thought to himself. "All what?"

"ALL WHAT!" Harry became suddenly aware that it may not be a good idea to anger the giant standing before him. He was rather large. "Now jus' wait one second!"

The Dursleys were cowering against the wall.

"Do yer mean ter tell me-" Hagrid boomed in his loud voice, "Do yer mean ter tell me that this boy-THIS BOY- knows nothin' –NOTHIN' about ANYTHING!"

Harry hated being called boy. It made him feel like a child. How dare this stranger insult him.

'I know _some _things," he spat, "I'm quite good at basic English. Unlike _some _people in the room."

Nobody seemed to hear him.

"Nothin' about the world-Our World!" Hagrid looked like he was going to explode. He turned to Harry.

"But yeh mus' know about yer mum and da," he said. "They're famous. _Yer_ famous."

If Harry needed proof that the man in front of him was crazy, he now had it. It wasn't possible. There was no chance that Harry was famous. He was just….Harry. He fixed Hagrid with a bewildered stare.

"Yeh don' know, do ya," Hagrid muttered.

Uncle Vernon seemed to find his voice. For once Harry was glad. He would put a stop to this nonsense. This was shaping up to be the oddest birthday Harry had ever had.

"Stop!" he commanded, "Stop right there! I forbid you to tell the boy anything!"

What? There was something to tell. Harry looked between the two men in confusion.

Hagrid glared at Dursley, trembling with rage.

"STOP! I forbid you!" Uncle Vernon yelled in a panic. That seemed to Harry to be the exact kind of thing you would want to avoid telling a giant who was angry.

Aunt Petunia gave a quiver of fear.

But the giant- Hagrid- turned to Harry. Harry became afraid.

"Harry, yer a wizard." He said.

"I'm a what?" Harry was in shock. What was going on?

"A' wizard, o' course." Said Hagrid. "An' a thumpin' good one I'd wager. Once yeh trained up a bit. What else could ya be?"

He handed Harry a letter. It was one of THE letters. Yellow parchment, green ink, seal on the back. Harry was overcome with curiosity. He needed to see where all this madness was going. Was this just some large, elaborate plot the Dursleys had planned for his birthday? No, they would never remember his birthday. But then….

He pulled out the letter and read, with a sinking feeling that he had seen these words somewhere before. But that was impossible. The words were impossible.

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Headmaster Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand. Sorc., Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of the necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on the first of September. We await your reply by owl no later than the 31 of July. _

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Harry was more confused than he had been before he read the letter. Hogwarts was a school? What did the word 'Mugwump' mean? Who were these people? Wasn't today the 31st of July? All that Harry really knew was that things were about to change.

"What does it mean, reply by owl?" the words came tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"Galloping Gorgins! That reminds me!" What was a Gorgin?

Hagrid reached into his pocket and pulled out a rumpled looking owl. For a minute Harry feared that it was dead, but it gave a little hoot and stuck its foot towards the giant. Harry watched as the man took out a giant feather and a bottle of ink.

_Dear Misters Dumbledore,_

_Given Harry his letter. Taking him to buy his things. Weathers horrible. Hope yer well._

_Hagrid._

Hagrid tied the scroll to the owl's leg and then turned back towards the Dursleys.

"He's not going." For once, Harry agreed with his uncle. Why wwould he go anywhere with this crazy man.

Hagrid grunted.

"I'd like ter see a great muggle like yerself try'n stop me" Turning to Harry he said "A muggle is what we call non-magic folk like them. An' its yer bad luck ya grew up in a muggle family like em."

Harry didn't like this man.

"We swore when we took him in that we'd put a stop to that rubbish!" Uncle Vernon said, "Wizard indeed!"

"My dratted sister being what she was got a letter just like that one! She came home every holidays with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning rats into teacups! I was the only one who saw her for what she was- a freak!" Aunt Petunia paused for breath before carrying on.

"Then she met that awful Potter at school and they left and got married and had you. I knew you'd be just as strange as them. Just as-as-abnormal. And then, she had to go and get herself blown up and we got stuck with you!"

"Blown up?! You told me they died in a car crash!"

"CAR CRASH!" roared Hagrid. Harry, once again, felt afraid. "Harry Potter not knowing his own story when every kid in our world be knowin' is name!"

He turned to Harry. "I never spected this. Dumbledore never told me."

Dumbledore. Why did Harry feel trepidation at that name?

"It begins, I suppose, with- with a person called-"

"Who?" Harry prodded.

"Well-I don't like saying his name. No one does." Hagrid took a breath. "There was this wizard who-who went bad. As bad as you can go. Worse. Worse than bad. His name was-"

Hagrid gulped.

"Could you write it down?" Honestly. This was just ridiculous. It was just a name.

"Nah. Allright- _Voldemort -_"Hagrid shuddered. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Anyways. Dark Days, Harry. Terrible things happened. He was wantin' power and he was a gettn' it. One of the only safe place left was Hogwarts. Reck'n Dumbledore's the only one that You-Know-Who was afraid of."

"Now yer mum and da were as light as any witch or wizard I eva knew, they was. Head boy and girl at Hogwarts in ther day. Maybe You-Know-Who thought he could persuade em. Maybe he was jus' wantin' them outta the way. But for whateva reasonhe turned up at yer house on Halloween ten years ago an-an…."

Hagrid was struggling to continue.

"You-Know-Who Killed em'. An' he tried to kill ya he couldn' do it. Ever wondered how ya got that mark on yer forehead? That's what ye get when a dark powerful curse hits ya. And that's why yer famous Harry. No one ever lived when he decided to kill them. No one. Ever. But you was only a baby. And you lived."

Harry felt a flash of pain go through his forehead. He saw green light. Saw a graveyard. A forest. A stick pointed at his head. Then it was gone. And he was back in the shack on the cliff in the middle of the ocean. What was that?

"Took yeh from the house myself, on Dumbledore's orders. Took yer to this lot." Hagrid trailed off.

"I think you're mistaken" said Harry quietly, not wanting to anger the large man, "I can't be a wizard."

"Not a wizard, eh? Never make things happen when yer angry or scared?"

"Now you listen here, boy," Uncle Vernon snarled. "I accept there's something wrong with you-nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured- and as for your parents, well. They were weirdoes, no denying it, and the world's better off without them in my opinion.

"I'm warning yeh Dursley! One more word!" Hagrid was mad. And big. It was not a good combination.

"He's not going to your ruddy school! He's going to Stonewall and he'll be grateful for it. I've read those letters and he needs all sorts of rubbish- spell books and wands and-"Vernon didn't know when to stop.

"Yer mad! His name's been down ever since he was born. He's off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and he won't know himself. He'll be with youngsters of his own sort, fer a change, and he'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had. Albus Dumbledore-"

Why did this all seem so familiar to Harry? Was there something he was missing?

"I will not pay for some crackpot old fool to teach him magic tricks!"

"NEVER" Hagrid thundered. He did not want to get on the bad side of this giant, despite his discomfort with the man, "INSULT ALBUS DUMBLEDORE IN FRONT OF ME!"

There was a sudden flash of violet light and suddenly Dudley was clasping his bottom howling in pain. When he turned around hair noticed the curly, pink pig's tale protruding from his pants.

Harry snickered. It was ironic, after all.

Hagrid turned to Harry, "Be grateful if yer don't mention that ter anyone one at Hogwarts. Strictly speakin' I'm not supposed to do magic."

Harry nodded, not wanting to anger the man further.

"I was at Hogwarts meself, but I got, uh. Well I got expelled ter tell you the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand and anything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as Gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore." That name. Hagrid had said it several times now, but Harry knew he had heard it before.

Harry followed Hagrid out onto the rocks. There was still a storm pounding on the rocks. It was cold, but Harry didn't dare argue with the man about being out in the weather. The Dursleys didn't follow them outside.

"How did you get here?" Harry couldn't see any boat except the one the Dursleys had arrived in.

"Flew" Hagrid said, "But we'll go back in this boat. Not supposed to be doing magic now that I found ya"

Harry didn't want to go with the giant, but he saw little other choice. It wouldn't do to make him angry again. He got in the boat.


	4. A Visit to the Goblins

-AUTHORS NOTE-

For those of you who have been frustrated with how similar it has been to the books, fear no more. The stories diverge very quickly from this point onwards. The last two chapters were more similar to the books than I would have liked, but I figured that everything would have happened as the great J.K wrote it until Harry started making changes. He couldn't change anything until he realized what was going on, which wouldn't happen instantly. I hate fics where everything changes instantly and things happen too quickly. Life isn't like that. Things develop over time. Feel free to review if you feel otherwise. I love feedback and will try to incorporate into my future work. Without further ado. The next chapter (I'm posting two today, because the next one is rather short).

* * *

Harry thought of Uncle Vernon's words back in the shack. If Harry went to wizarding school he wasn't going to be financially supported by the Dursleys. But if Harry didn't go to wizarding school the giant was sure to get mad again. It was a bit of a conundrum actually.

After a bit of thought on the subject, Harry came to two conclusions. The first was that making a giant angry in a confined space such as a rowboat would be a horrible idea. The second he voiced aloud.

"I haven't got any money- and you heard Uncle Vernon-he won't give me any"

"doncher worry about that" Hagrid scratched his head, "D'yehr think yer parents left yer with nothing, boy', We're going ter Gringotts."

Harry hated being called boy. "Gringotts?"

"Wizard bank." Hagrid was eating a sausage out of his dirty fingers. It made Harry nauseous, but he passed it off as a bit of seasickness.

"Wizards have banks?" Why did he feel as though he already knew that?

"Just the one. Gringotts. Run by Goblins." Hagrid said as he pulled out his paper- _The Daily Prophet_, it read.

"Yeh, so ye'd be mad ter try an' rob it- I'll tell yehr that. Safest place in the world. Cept' Hogwarts of course. As a matta fact, I gotta visit Gringotts anyway. Fer Dumbledore." He drew himself up proudly.

Harry tuned the giant out for a few minutes. Listening to Hagrid prattle on was starting to give Harry a headache. He didn't like the man at all.

"Why would you be mad to try and rob Gringotts?" Harry asked suddenly.

"Spells-enchantments" said Hagrid, "They's saying there's dragons guarding the high security vaults. And yehr got to try to find yehr way- Gringotts is hundreds of miles under London, see. Deep under the Underground. Yeh'd die of hunger tryin ter get out, even if yeh did manage ter get yehr hands on somethin'."

Harry sat and pondered for a minute in silence. Dragons. Hadn't he had a dream about riding on a dragon? Except hadn't it been blind?

Harry shook his head. It wasn't wise to dwell on dreams. They were just that, dreams.

"Ministry of Magic messing things up as usual," Hagrid muttered.

"There's a Ministry of Magic?" Harry was startled. He specifically remembered a Ministry of Magic in his dreams. He'd been on trial there, had almost been expelled from his school.

"Course." Came the reply. "They wanted Dumbledore fer Minister, o' course, but he'd never leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius Fudge got the job. Bungler if there ever was one. So he pelts Dumbledore with owls every mornin' askin' fer advice."

"But what does the Ministry of magic do?" This was important. In his dreams the Ministry controlled everything. He remembered one dream where a woman from the Ministry came and took over the school and made him go to detention every night. Awful woman that.

"Well their main job is ter keep it from the Muggles that there's still witches and wizards about."

* * *

Hagrid had made Harry wander through London for what felt like hours. His feet were getting tired and he was more and more annoyed with Hagrid every time the giant opened his mouth.

"This is it" Hagrid came to a stop, "The Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place."

Harry was beginning to seriously distrust Hagrid's opinion of what was famous. It was just a tiny, grubby looking pub. If Hagrid hadn't pointed it out, Harry would have walked by it without noticing it at all. Hagrid steered him inside.

It was dark and shabby. There were quite a few people meandering about. The chatter stopped when Harry and Hagrid entered. He didn't blame them, Hagrid was a giant man, after all. He'd be scared too.

But then the people smiled and waved and beckoned Hagrid over. They all seemed to know him. Why had they all gone silent, then?

His unspoken question was miraculously answered.

"Bless my soul," said the old barman, "Harry Potter…What an Honour."

Harry was struck with a moment of panic. Who was this man? How did he know Harry? Could Hagrid have been telling the truth? Was he really famous?

"Welcome back Mr. Potter, Welcome back-".

Harry cut off the chatter before it continued. The attention was making him anxious. "Shouldn't we be shopping Hagrid?"

"Well, er. yes. Yer supposed to buy everthin' on the list, Harry. Best be started then."

Hagrid pulled Harry from the crowd, which rather hurt Harry's arm. The man certainly was strong. For some reason Hagrid began counting bricks behind a dustbin.

'Three up. Two across. Tap it three times,' Harry thought. Wait. How exactly did he know that? He shouldn't have known that.

The exact brick Harry predicted been to quiver. In the middle, a small hole appeared – it grew wider and wider- until there was a passageway large enough for both of them to pass through.

Harry wished he had about eight more eyes. He glanced in one direction before quickly turning to the other as they made their way down the street. All that Harry knew was that it was something incredible and foreign, yet familiar at the same time. Harry had never seen anything so spectacular in his entire life. Well, maybe that wasn't true. Dudley's tail had been pretty spectacular.

"Gringotts" said Hagrid as they came to a stop before a stone white building at the end of the street.

On the bronzed doors of the building were the engraved words:

_Enter strangers, but take heed,_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn, _

_So if you seek, beneath our floors, _

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, Beware,_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

Harry was strangely affected by the words. He felt them weighing down on him, but there was no reason for it. He had never been a thief. He had no reason to steal from the goblins.

By the doors, wearing a uniform of gold and scarlet was a- was that a goblin?

The goblin was about a head shorter than Harry. He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and, Harry noticed, very long fingers and feet. Harry watched as he bowed to the other customers who entered but when he approached the goblin did not bow. It sneered and glared at him. Harry was utterly confused. What could he have done to insult the creature?

As they passed through the doors, Harry found himself in a vast marble hall. Behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing brass scales, and examining precious stones were hundreds more goblins. There were many doors on either side of the door, and goblins were escorting people through these doors. Harry and Hagrid made for the counter.

"Mornin'," said Hagrid to a free goblin, "We've come ter take some money outta Mr. Potter's safe."

"Mr. Potter," said the goblin looking up from his ledger. His eyes seemed to pierce through Harry. He felt exposed.

"Well then, Mr. Potter," He turned to his fellows behind him, "Griphook. Mr. Potter has come to take something from his vault."

Griphook appeared to be the name of yet another goblin.

"Come with me Mr. Potter. Bring your…friend." Griphook sneered at Harry. They certainly weren't friendly creatures.

"An' I've also got a letter here from professor Dumbledore," Hagrid piped in, "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven-hundred and thirteen."

The first goblin read the letter carefully.

"What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" Harry asked Hagrid

"Can't tell yeh that," said Hagrid mysteriously, "Very secret Hogwarts business. Dumbledore trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that"

"Very well," the goblin said eying Harry suspiciously, "Griphook will handle both matters."

The Goblin Griphook led them towards one of the doors leading off of the chamber.

"Wait here, Mr. …" the goblin looked at Hagrid.

"Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts." Hagrid puffed out his chest.

"Hmph," the goblin replied as he led Harry through the door.

Harry found himself in an expensive looking room. It had an ornate looking table with delicate chairs sitting in the centre of the room.

The goblin gestured to the chairs. Harry sat. Instead of joining him at the table, Griphook leaned over Harry's chair in an intimidating posture.

"The goblins do not forget, Mr. Potter," said the goblin, "Nor do we forgive those who have wronged us."

Harry wasn't sure where this conversation was going, but he had the distinct impression he was being threatened.

"You have been warned, Mr. Potter," the goblin continued, "not to seek what is hidden beneath our floors.

Did this mean that Harry would not be allowed to withdraw money from the vault? What was going on?

"Given what has happened….we have confiscated the keys to your vaults." What had happened?

As the goblin continued to look at Harry he was struck with the remembrance of another of his dreams. A small creature, similar to the one in front of him. But somehow older, more ragged. Hurt. Leading him through tunnels in the darkness. Entering a cave. Taking something. The creature laughing as it locked him below the surface. Harry couldn't remember. The dream seemed so far away.

"Yet…" the goblin continued after his pause, "it has been foretold..."

The goblin turned to a shelf on the wall and removed an object covered in red silk. Griphook set the object on the table in front of Harry carefully, almost reverently.

"Goblin magic is different is different than your magic" Griphook unfolded the silk revealing a cup engraved in words that Harry did not understand and covered in gemstones too beautiful to describe. "Our magic does not run through our blood. It runs through our being."

Another object was removed from this shelf. This one was not nearly as beautiful as the cup. It was a dagger, black as the night sky without any of the lavish details which Harry was beginning to associate with Goblins. Harry was filled with dread.

"You have a choice, Mr. Potter." The Goblin placed the knife in front of table. "You can either leave this room as you entered it, our enemy. Or you can swear to us your friendship, your fealty."

Harry stared at the goblin. In that moment he knew, and would have known even without the warnings from Hagrid, that goblins were not to be trifled with. And somehow, in some way, he knew the words he needed to say.

"I, Harry James Potter, hereby swear my friendship and loyalty to the Goblinhood kind. May your mines run rich, your fires hot, and your coffers deep."

The goblin gestured to the knife.

Harry picked it up, placed it against his finger, and pressed. A small smear of red appeared on his fingertip. Harry glanced at Griphook. He looked towards the cup.

As Harry watched a drop of his blood drip into the chalice he felt the weighty look of the goblin fall upon him.

"So mote it be" the goblin slipped the silk cover back over the cup and returned it to the shelf. He then moved the knife beside it.

Griphook turned towards Harry, pulling something small and golden from his pocket. A key.

"You wanted to make a withdrawal, Mr. Potter" Griphook handed him the key.

"Yes, Sir."

Harry was escorted back to Hagrid in the hall before they were both led through a different door in the great chamber. Harry let out a breath of relief that he didn't know he was holding. The goblins were on his side. And somehow, even if he didn't know why, that was important.

* * *

Griphook whistled and a small cart came flying towards them on the tracks. The three stepped into the cart and it rolled down the tracks, over canyons, and through dark passages. Harry didn't if he was upwards, downwards, or inside out. It was exactly like the roller coasters Dudley had always bragged about riding fearlessly. Harry was enthralled.

Glancing at his giant companion, Harry noted that Hagrid was not properly enjoying the ride. In fact, he looked rather ill. Harry shuffled away from the man, not that he could go far in the small cart. He didn't want to get too close.

Finally, Griphook pulled a lever and they came to a stop before a tiny cart. Harry handed him the key and the small goblin unlocked the door.

Inside were mounds of gold, silver and bronze coins. It went on as far as he could see. Harry gasped. It couldn't all be his. Could it.

"By our records, there are several other vaults in your possession, Mr. Potter," came the goblins voice, "We will, at your request complete an inventory of your assets, both capital and otherwise, to be sent for your personal records."

Griphook handed him a bag. "This bag will automatically refill with money from your vault as you spend it. As a precaution, only you can open the bag. Consider it a welcoming gift from your goblin friends.

"Brilliant"

"Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please," came Hagrid's voice from the trolley.

With a raised eyebrow the goblin turned to Harry, "He's certainly not typical companionship for the heir of the Noble House Potter, is he?"

"Believe me, it wasn't my choice" Harry liked these goblins. They seemed to be good judges of character.

By the time they reached Hagrid's mysterious vault Harry was enthralled with Gringotts. He wasn't sure he ever wanted to leave. Unfortunately, Hagrid was quick to retrieve a small package that Harry paid little attention to and was soon pulling Harry through the lobby to exit the bank.

"If you need our assistance, Mr. Potter." The goblin by the door spoke to Harry as they exited, "We are righting the things that have been wronged..."


	5. It always comes back to Malfoy

-DISCLAIMER-I own none of the characters, objects, or scenes. They are all the property of the original owners. Please don't sue me.

* * *

Although he was young and rather unexperienced in life, Harry knew one thing without having any desire to discover why. Never trust a witch wearing mauve. The short, plump owner of _Madam Malkins Robes for All Occasions_ may have looked innocent enough, but he didn't trust her.

"Hogwarts dear?"

Harry was not pleased to be buying clothes, and he would rather not listen to the women's incessant prattle. It had been a long day buying cauldrons, and newt eyes, and textbooks under Hagrid's watchful eye. He had finally convinced than giant to go get himself a drink and leave harry to his peace, but who knew how long before Hagrid came back.

"There's another boy around your age being fitted in the back-"

Harry stopped listening, not that he really had been to start off with. He was struck with another image from his dreams. A pale boy, with a face that was much too pointy, and a smirk that reeked of arrogance. He remembered being offered a hand. Then came images of a bathroom. The boy crying. Blood everywhere. Harry felt regret and pity. He'd knew what it was like for people not to want to be your friend.

With more effort than Harry would have liked, Harry dragged himself away from the images. Now was not the time to dwell.

Madame Malkin was finished with whatever she was nattering on about. Instead she was pushing him up onto a stand at the back of the store and draping fabric over his head. Harry looked into the mirror.

And that's when he saw it. The boy. Draco Malfoy his mind supplied. Draco Malfoy was standing next to him getting fitted for his first year robes that would soon have a Slytherin crest on them.

It always came down to Malfoy didn't it.

But Harry remembered. He remembered! His entire life came flooding back to him with sudden force that left his head splitting into pieces. It was worse than the Cruciatus. It was worse than the Killing Curse!

_Hedwig. Ron and Hermione. Hogwarts. Dobby. Remus. Sirius. Ginny._

It all came crashing down on him. He had done what was asked of him. He had given up everything for what. For a man that he no longer believed in.

_Pettigrew. Bellatrix. Voldemort. Horcruxes. Dumbledore. Deathly Hallows. Dying. King's Cross Station._

Harry knew what he had to do. He knew what he had to change.

"-Know what House you'll be in?"

Harry turned to the boy in front of him in shock. He honestly hadn't been listening to the conversation. His mouth pushed out the thought at the forefront of his brain.

"Slytherin."

Harry needed to be a Slytherin.

The small version of Malfoy smiled. In all of their acquaintance, Harry had never seen Draco Malfoy smile.

"I know I'll be in Slytherin. All my family's been there. Imagine if you got stuck in Hufflepuff. I think I'd leave."

Harry smiled at the image of Draco Malfoy in a yellow tie, sitting next to Hannah and Ernie.

"Imagine if you got stuck in Gryffindor."

Malfoy scrunched his face, "Don't even say something like that, you might make it happen."

Harry let out a laugh. Who would have thought he would be able to hold a decent conversation with Draco Malfoy. Perhaps the prat wasn't so awful after all.

Before they could continue their conversation, Madame Malkin spelled the last of the pins out of his robes and told Harry that he could leave. Harry was almost disappointed.

"See you in Slytherin," Draco drawled.

Harry smirked.

* * *

Hagrid was waiting for him in the street. Seeing him was bittersweet for Harry. On one hand, he found that he really didn't like the man as much as he used to. Maybe it was a product of dying, or maybe it was because of how close Hagrid was to Dumbledore….Whatever it was, Harry didn't trust him. Still... they had so many wonderful memories together. Did he really want to lose that? Rockcakes and Fang. Hedwig. Norbert. Buckbeak. Aragog and Fluffy. Okay, maybe not Aragog and Fluffy.

Harry put the matter to the back of his brain for later consideration.

"Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin." Hagrid was prattling away as though Harry had been participating in the entire conversation. "There's not a witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one".

Harry was incredulous. Hagrid couldn't actually believe that, could he? Had Harry really been so gullible as to believe such a black and white statement? He felt horrible. No wonder Dumbledore was able to manipulate him for the "greater good", he was spoon fed this drivel from the first moment he entered the wizarding world.

As Hagrid led Harry into Eeylopes Owl Emporium, Harry was still quietly seething. Hagrid didn't seem to notice anything was wrong, which made the entire situation worse. But then he saw her.

Hedwig.

Harry burst into tears as he ran towards his first friend. He had missed her so much! She cooed and nibbled his finger.

Hagrid jut looked gobsmacked.

Before the giant had time to recover, Harry had pulled out his sack of coins and had paid for the owl. He wanted his friend, but he didn't want to be indebted to anyone ever again.

"Jus' Ollivanders left now-only place fer wands." Hagrid muttered gruffly.

Harry paused, remembering the gaunt shell of a man from the Malfoy dungeons. He didn't know if he could face that. But it seems he had no choice.

The shop was just as he remembered it: tiny, dusty, and filled with a magic that seemed to seep into his skin.

"Good afternoon." Came a familiar voice. Harry turned to face Ollivander.

"Hello. I'm Harry Potter. And yes I know I have my mother's eyes"

Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Did the man never blink?

"It's the wand that chooses the wizard, Mr. Potter" He was eyeing Harry's forehead thoughtfully.

Before he could continue Harry cut him off, "I'm right-handed, Sir."

Ollivander smiled, then handed Harry a wand. Harry tried and tried. He flicked and swished and twirled the wands around. Nothing was working, but Harry knew they wouldn't. Just as harry was ready to blurt out which wand he needed to try Ollivander produced an unfamiliar box.

"Hawthorn and Unicorn Hair, ten inches, reasonably pliant" the wandmaker began.

"No."

"Pardon?"

"Not that wand." Harry knew that wand. He would know it anywhere. It was Draco Malfoy's wand. The wand he had in his pocket the moment he died. Knowing his luck it would probably still answer to him. "Any wand but that one."

Ollivander paused. "Well I suppose…"

He returned to the back of the store and rummaged in a dusty corner for a moment before returning. "Unusual combination. Holly and Phoenix feather. Eleven inches. Nice and supple."

Harry picked up his first wand and felt the familiar sparks flick through his fingers. With a flick of his wrist it swirled the dust in the room into a curious pattern resembling a constellation of stars. The wand remembered him. He turned to Ollivander with a smile.

"I'll take it."

* * *

The month before Hogwarts passed quickly for Harry. All of the Dursleys seemed to be avoiding him. Every time Harry entered the room Dudley would squeak and grab his bottom. It was really quite entertaining.

Still, Harry had long hours to himself in his room to plot. Dumbledore would not take long to react to the changes Harry was planning to make to the timeline, and Harry needed to be sure that he was fighting a battle he could win.

It was time to go to war.


	6. The Hogwarts Express

-AUTHORS NOTE-

Thanks for all of the support. Next chapter is all about the sorting and Harry's first experiences in Slytherin. So stay tuned!

DISCLAIMER- I own neither the characters, nor the story. Please don't sue me.

* * *

Harry ignored Uncle Vernon as he watched the English countryside flow past the car window. The man had been smug all morning as he secretly relished the idea of Harry reaching King's Cross Station only to realize that there was no platform. But Harry didn't care what his Uncle was doing. He had bigger things to worry about. Today was an important day. Today he would change history.

"Well there you are boy-Platform 9 - Platform 10- They don't seem to have-"

"Goodbye then, Uncle. See you next summer." Harry knew that being polite would be much more satisfactory than getting angry. Uncle Vernon wasn't smart enough to know how to react.

Harry waited until the Dursleys were out of sight before he made his way onto platform 9 ¾. The Muggles didn't notice as he slipped through the barrier and made his way toward the familiar sights and sounds.

The platform for the Hogwarts express was already crowded, though it was only ten in the morning. Anxiously, Harry looked around the platform, trying to recognize familiar faces. Nobody paid any mind to a small raven haired boy pulling a trunk behind him.

"Who do you think they made Captain this year" Harry turned at the sound of a familiar voice. Alicia Spinnet.

"Got to be Wood. Who else would it be?" Katie Bell answered.

"You're just saying that because you like him. I think it will be Angelina."

"No way. She's way too young!"

Harry smiled. It was good to see them so carefree, so happy in a moment when their only worry was Quidditch.

"Well who do you think will make seeker?"

Hmm? Who would be seeker?

Harry turned away from the conversation. He needed to make sure he was able to sit in the right compartment on the train. If Harry forgot a moment today he risked losing Ron as a friend forever.

* * *

"Wingardium Leviosa."

Harry hadn't been able to think of another way to pull his trunk onto the train. Either it had gotten much heavier than he remembered, or he was much smaller. Most definitely smaller. Besides, the hover charm was one of the first spells learned in Hogwarts. No one would notice.

"Oh, are you doing magic? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for-" Harry would recognize Hermione's voice anywhere. He turned to the frazzled looking girl with a smile. He had forgotten how large her teeth had been.

"Hello. I'm Harry Potter. Nice to meet you."

"Hermione Granger." Hermione paused. "Are you really Harry Potter? I've read all about-"

"Have you memorised the set books yet?" Harry asked in amusement. He didn't need to hear about all the ways he was famous.

"Of course. I hope it'll be enough."

Once again, Harry smiled. Hermione was exactly as he remembered her. A sudden thought struck him. Why should she be unhappy? Did she deserve to feel alone? To have no friends? To cry in a bathroom and be attacked by a troll. Hermione was the kindest person that Harry had ever known. She had stood by him when all others, Ron included, abandoned him. Gryffindor had brought them together, but maybe it wasn't the right place for her.

"Have you given any thought about which house you'd like to be in?" he asked.

"I've read all about the houses in _Hogwarts a History_. Gryffindor sounds the best. Did you know that Albus Dumbledore, the current headmaster of Hogwarts was in Gryffindor?"

Harry snorted. Dumbledore should have been in Slytherin. He certainly was conniving enough.

"Though, I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be so bad."

"I think you'd make a great Ravenclaw!" Harry jumped on the suggestion. Hermione was sure to make friends in a house based on knowledge and studying.

"Really? I'm worried they may not be the friendliest bunch. I've been so worried that I won't fit in. My parents aren't magical, you see. I've read everything I could about the wizarding world, but there's still so much I don't know."

"It is our choices that define us, Hermione, not where we came from."

A light blush colored Harry's cheeks. She opened her mouth to reply when a voice came from behind them.

"You're blocking the way."

Harry turned at the sound. His eyes settled on the dark stare of a small girl. Her face was scrunched up in distaste as she eyed Harry and Hermione.

"Move." It was Pansy Parkinson.

Harry felt his stomach lurch. That stupid, vain, vapid girl. What right did she think she had? She had wanted to turn Harry over to Voldemort….

"S-s-sorry" Hermione stuttered. She turned to Harry. "See you at the sorting, then."

Reluctantly, Harry moved to allow both girls to pass. He shook his head to clear it. He was getting distracted. He needed to follow the plan.

Harry found his way to the last compartment in the train. He tucked himself into the corner with the full intention of watching out the window for the Weasleys to arrive. This would be the only chance he had to see Ginny until next year! Unfortunately, he dozed off.

* * *

"Anyone sitting there?" Harry was disoriented. Was that Ron?

"Ro-"

"Everywhere else is full."

Right. The Hogwarts express. Harry was going back to his first year. He shook his head lightly at Ron and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He noticed a black mark on Ron's nose.

"You've got a bit of dirt there"

Ron's reaction completely surprised Harry. He found himself the recipient of a strong glare. "Well your glasses have tape on them."

Harry opened his mouth to correct his blunder, but before he could say anything the apartment door slid open revealing the twins.

"Brother!" Fred shouted, or was that George?

"We're going down to the middle of the train, Lee Jordan is going to give a play by play of the Falcon-Cannon match he went to," the other supplied. "You in"

"Blimey." Ron glanced at Harry, "Anything to get awake from this bloke. Real tosspot."

The twins seemed to notice Harry for the first time.

"I'm Gred."

"And I'm Feorge"

"Who are you?" They chorused together. Did they practice that?

Harry tilted his head slightly as he looked at the twins. He'd obviously made the wrong impression with Ron, but that could be fixed. The twins were dangerous enemies to have, he needed to establish a quick repertoire with them.

"I'm Prong's son." He knew they would get the reference.

"Top notch" came one answer.

"Amazing." The other.

"We should compare ideas."

"The Weasley twins-"

"-And the Marauder's-"

"-Working together"

The twins looked at each other and both said, "Brilliant".

"The Havoc-"

"The Chaos-"

They looked at each other again, "The dungbombs."

Though Harry was smiling, Ron looked less than pleased with the entire exchange. He rolled his eyes and promptly reminded the twins that Jordan was waiting for them.

"Later Marauder."

"See you soon, legacy"

* * *

Harry wasn't really hungry for any of the food from the trolley. Instead, he glanced through his textbooks for a few minutes.

"Father….Pott…..Hogwar…don…"

The words were muffled by the door, but Harry recognized to voice. Malfoy. He got to his feet and slid open the compartment door.

Malfoy and his two henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle, were walking past his compartment. They didn't seem particularly interested in entering any of the compartments, but were happy to wander the hall.

"So it's you, is it?" Malfoy said, obviously recognizing him from the robe shop.

"Yes." Harry nodded his head in Malfoy's direction. He glanced at the bodyguards.

"This is Crabbe and Goyle." Malfoy said carelessly lifting one eyebrow, "and my name is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

"Harry Potter." Malfoy hesitated, obviously not expecting that response.

"Harry Potter," Malfoy repeated.

"No, that's my name," Harry replied. He needed an excuse for why he was exiting the compartment. "I was just going to try and find the Weasley twins I met earlier. They wanted to chat."

"Weasley," The boy raised his upper into a snarl, "red, hair, freckles, poor."

Harry raised his eyebrow at the boy, remembering this conversation from the first time he had it. His reaction seemed to give Malfoy pause. After a moment he continued.

"You'll soon find out some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

Malfoy held out his pale hand for Harry to shake. Harry looked at him.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks." But this time, he took Malfoy's outstretched hand.

A pink tinge crept up Malfoy's cheek.

"See you in Slytherin."

_Yes you will_, thought Harry as the three buys meandered away. Harry went back into his compartment.

* * *

Harry glanced out the window, recognizing a few landmarks that meant the train was fast approaching Hogsmeade.

It was time to slip into his robes and prepare for arrival.

Except wasn't Hermione supposed to come and tell him to put on his robes? Weren't they supposed to talk about Neville and his missing toad? And then there was Ron….

Ron. Harry didn't want to lose his best friend. Ron was Harry's first friend (apart from Hedwig, of course). True, he was unreliable, but Ron had saved his life as many times as he had walked away. He was the thing that Harry would miss most, at least according to the Triwizard contest.

Did becoming a Slytherin mean losing his friendships? There had to be some way to fix this.

* * *

As the train slowed on the tracks, Harry rose from his seat and went into the corridor. It was teeming with people from all houses. Harry looked around anxiously. How many people had he seen die? Could he stop it from happening again?

He stepped from the train and breathed in the cool night air. It calmed his nerves. He turned slowly, looking at the faces until he saw an anxious one that made him smile. Neville.

"Hello." He said as he approached, "I'm Harry."

"N-Neville" the boy looked like he was about to cry. "Have you seen a toad anywhere? I think I've l-l-lost him."

Harry thought for a long minute about where the toad had been found.

"I think he'll be by the boats. Toads like water, don't they?"

"That's frogs, actually?" Neville corrected him.

"Let's check anyway," Harry replied.

The first years were ushered by Hagrid down a steep, narrow path. As they turned a corner Hogwarts came into view. Harry's chest constricted painfully.

"No more' four to a boat" Hagrid called as he scooped up a small toad at the water's edge.

"Trevor!" Neville cried running forward and taking the creature from Hagrid.

There were some snickers from the crowd. Slytherins.

Harry and Neville stepped into the boat and were soon followed by Justin Finch-Fletchley and Zacharias Smith.

The boats slid across the surface of the lake like skates across a sheet of ice. Even now, after everything he had been through, the sight took Harry's breath away.

He was home.


	7. Swagger at the Sorting Ceremony

_-_AUTHORS NOTE-

When I first published this fic I didn't think that anyone would want to read it. I wanted to thank everyone for their support and continued reading. It means a great deal to me.

DISCLAIMER- I am not the author of Harry Potter, and I do not claim to be. She is much more talented than I am. I am merely playing with her creations.

* * *

_"...You might belong in Gryffindor_

_Where dwell the brave of heart_

_Their daring, nerve and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindor apart._

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true,_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or Perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

Harry smiled as the hat finished its song. The last time he had heard it had been nerve-wracking. He had been so afraid the hat would put him in Slytherin. Now he was nervous for a completely polar reason. What would happen if the hat refused to put him with the snakes?

Harry had spent so long planning, sacrificed so much, so many. He had even died. Could it all be for nothing? What if he was simply fated to relive the same life for eternity?

"Granger, Hermione!" Harry was jerked back to the present as his bookworm friend made her way to the stool.

Ron rolled his eyes at Hermione.

"I hope she's not in Gryffindor," he muttered. Harry wanted to hit him. Had his-Ron ever been that judgemental?_ Yes_, thought Harry. _Yes he had._

Harry remembered Hermione rushing forward the first time, running even, eager to try on the hat. But now, now she edged cautiously, thoughtfully. On her face was the same look she got when she was trying to solve a particularly difficult problem.

She sat with the hat on her head for a long moment. Every few seconds Hermione would scrunch her nose or quirk her eyebrow. It seemed as though she was debating something with the hat. Harry was curious what the hat was saying. Suddenly, a look of satisfaction flashed over face; whatever argument they had been having Hermione had obviously won.

"RAVENCLAW" shouted the hat. Harry glanced towards Hermione's new table and saw Mandy Blockhurst and Terry Boot clapping enthusiastically. Anthony Goldstein just looked bored. Well, at least one part of his plan was successful….

Hopefully now the Hermione was in a house that valued intelligence and work ethic she would find friends easier. He was certain that she wouldn't be the only one in the house who had memorized the entire set list. Besides, next year Hermione would be joined by Luna. Neither girl would have to be without a friend.

The hat continued down the list of names, but Harry paid little attention. He already knew where people would be sorted and didn't think his actions would cause any more changes. His feet were getting sore. Why was this taking so long?

"Malfoy, Draco" called McGonagall.

It happened just as Harry remembered.

Malfoy swaggered, yes, swaggered forward. He graced the hall with a smirk and sat on the stool expectantly. _Little snark,_ thought Harry.

The hat barely touched his head. In fact, Harry wasn't sure it actually did touch the pale boy. "SLYTHERIN!"

There was thunderous applause from the Snakes, but the other houses did not seem surprised. Where else would a Malfoy be sorted?

Malfoy merely arched his eyebrow and joined his friends at the Slytherin table.

Harry was getting bored with waiting. He would rather just get this whole mess done with so that he could sit down. His feet were beginning to ache. Why did his last name have to start with the letter P?

"Potter, Harry."

As if by some preplanned notion the entire hall broke out in whispers.

"Potter…"

"Did she say…"

"It can't…"

"The Boy who lived…."

"I can't…"

"Is this…."

"Blimey…."

Harry rolled his eyes. The entire wizarding world celebrated his birthday. They knew he was eleven years old. They knew he was British. His parents had been friends with Dumbledore. They had both gone to Hogwarts. Been head boy and girl, even. Where else did they expect him to go? Durmstrang? Why were they so surprised?

While taking a step forward, Harry noticed Ron glaring at him from the line. Harry ignored him. If Ron wanted to act like a git, Harry wasn't going to try and stop him.

He turned towards McGonagall and sat patiently on the stool.

"Hmm…." The hat said inside Harry's head, "Harry Potter. I didn't expect to see you again. I suppose you'll be wanting Gryffindor again, then. Shame to waste all that talent. It's all here. The thirst to prove yourself, the brains to back it up. The courage to do what is necessary. Yes. Yes. It's all here. You could be on your way to greatness…."

Harry knew the entire hall was waiting on the edge of its seat for the hat to announce his fate. Most probably assumed he would be going to Gryffindor like his parents, but a few probably suspected either Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. Nobody would be expecting him to ask for Slytherin.

He could feel the stares on him. In his other life he might have reacted differently, but in this life he concentrated on his plan. He concentrated on repeating a single phase in his head. _I was wrong. I want to be in Slytherin. I was wrong. I want to be in Slytherin._

The hat paused in its musings. "Slytherin, you say. Now isn't that a surprise. Learned from your mistakes, have you? Well, it's all here. Only one house has the power to make you into the person to need to be. Yes, I'm sure. I'm never wrong. You're destined for…"

_I was wrong. I want to be in Slytherin. I was wrong. I want to be in Slytherin._

"SLYTHERIN!"

It was silent. Nobody was clapping. Nobody was cheering. Harry distinctly remembered cheering last time.

He glanced at the Slytherin table. Blank looks. It wasn't that shocking, honestly. Only Malfoy had a reaction; he was smirking. Harry was pleased that it seemed he had at least one ally.

He turned to the Gryffindor table. They looked shocked. Cheated. Fred and George were whispering frantically back and forth.

He turned to the Ravenclaw table. Hermione looked contemplative. After a moment of thought she nodded her head and looked towards him speculatively.

Harry looked towards his professors.

McGonagall looked devastated.

Hagrid looked confused.

Snape was fixing Harry with the hardest glare he had ever felt. If he didn't already know what the man's legilimency felt like he would assume the man was trying to read his mind.

Harry risked a glance at the Headmaster. There was no twinkle in his eye. He looked….calculating. Harry was reminded of the man he met after he died. He turned away from his enemy.

* * *

Harry was seated across from Malfoy and directly beside a girl he knew little of named something-or-other Greengrass. They had been in classes together, but he didn't think they had ever spoken to one another. He didn't remember her name and she hadn't introduced herself. On Harry's other side was Parkinson, who had been shooting daggers at Harry ever since he sat down. She didn't seem to like him much. The feeling was mutual.

His reception at the Slytherin table was less exuberant than he had hoped for. Nobody had spoken to him at his approach and only Malfoy had looked pleased to see him. Well, maybe Crabbe and Goyle were pleased to see him. He honestly couldn't tell with that pair. Their faces looked like a stone wall. The older students seemed to appraising him, fitting him into their schemes and plans. Harry wasn't intimidated. He had plans of his own, after all.

Malfoy leaned across the table "At least you weren't a Gryffindor."

"Or a Hufflepuff."

Their eyes met. Harry smiled at the boy in front of him. He had a feeling this was the beginning of something entirely different than his friendships in Gryffindor. It was the start of a true friendship. Imagine, Draco Malfoy as a friend. Harry would never have believed it if he hadn't made it happen himself

Parkinson looked like she was about to comment. Harry suspected that whatever she had to say wouldn't be pleasant.

With a quick nod of his head Harry turned towards the staff table.

Dumbledore had returned to his overly cheerful demeanour and appeared to be discussing the attributes of yorkshire pudding with Professor Flitwick. It seemed that Dumbledore had decided on an alternate plan. The old coot was reacting quicker to his changes than Harry had expected. He would have to account for that….

Snape appeared to be pouting. Harry supposed that his being sorted into Slytherin accounted for many of the man's nightmares. A Potter in Slytherin. He chuckled to himself.

Scanning his gaze further down the table, Harry's eyes fell on Quirrell. He felt a sharp pain spread across his forehead in a way that could only be described as familiar. Voldemort. Harry couldn't stop his sharp intake of breath, though he did refrain from clutching his scar.

If he had been at the Gryffindor table nobody would have noticed, but he wasn't a Gryffindor anymore.

All of the Slytherin's around him took notice, and catalogued his reaction away for further dissection. Malfoy eyed him speculatively. Parkinson titled her head in thought. Greengrass was blatantly staring at him. Harry was going to have to ask Malfoy how he managed to keep his mask of indifference in place all of the time. It would be a useful skill in Slytherin.

* * *

After making the students sit through heaps of pointless rules and a particularly awful rendition of the school song, Dumbledore finally appeared ready to dismiss them from the hall. Harry was pleased, his eyes were drooping closed at the table and he didn't think it would be a very good first impression if he fell asleep in the trifle.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year the third floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death" The Headmaster added.

There were a few scattered chuckles around the hall, but none from the Slytherins. Harry thought speculatively about Fluffy and the trapdoor he was guarding.

"I bet they're hiding something good" muttered a sallow looking boy a few seats down from Malfoy. Theodore Nott, if his memory served him correctly.

"And now, off to bed" Came Dumbledore's voice from the front of the room.

* * *

The Gryffindor's had left first, charging blindly after Percy Weasley towards their tower. Then, the Hufflepuffs departed in a huddled mess, gossiping as they went. The Ravenclaws trickled out slowly; they seemed to be expected to find their own way to the dorm. Still the Slytherins had not moved.

Finally, once even the teachers had headed to their quarters, the older students rose and simply walked through the doors. Two prefects remained.

Harry recognized Terence Higgs, a seventh year who was the seeker on the Slytherin team. He did not, however, recognize the girl.

"Terence Higgs, seventh year prefect." Higgs stood in front of the group.

"Matilda Bletchley, head girl," the girl introduced herself, "If you have an issue, any issue, do not bother the professors. Ask us. Ask your housemates. The teachers will not listen to you. They will not care. But we will."

"Let's get moving, tomorrow will be a long day" Higgs eyed the students in front of him.

* * *

Harry had expected to be led down to the dungeons to the comfort of a bed, but he was wrong. Instead they were led throughout the school. They were shown their classrooms, shortcuts to the dining hall, and the location of each of the dormitories. It was the kind of information that harry truly would have found useful his first time in Hogwarts.

"You need to remember where each of your classes is. If you do not know, ask one of the older Slytherins. You must be punctual. Properly attired. Prepared." Higgs gave them a lecture as he pointed out the important landmarks in the school.

"You are a Slytherin now. You need to represent our house with a suitable degree of decorum."

After they had been shown each of their classrooms, the first years were led through a series of shortcuts that Harry didn't remember ever seeing on The Marauders Map. Faster than he thought was strictly possible, they travelled from the Astronomy tower to the dungeons.

Harry found himself in a familiar corridor. Their procession paused by a stretch of bare, stone wall.

"The first night at Hogwarts is important. Hufflepuff has a childish sleepover, Ravenclaw plans out their study schedules, Gryffindor never thinks about anything, but Slytherin-" Higgs was interrupted by the Bletchley girl.

"Slytherin prepared itself. And tonight, unity will become your power."

A stone door concealed in the wall slid open.

"Welcome to Slytherin. Welcome to your home." Bletchley said, "Never share the password with anyone except another Slytherin. Never forget. Unity."

She led them through the doorway.

The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and a stone ceiling, from which round, green lamps were hanging from chains. At the far end of the room sat an elaborate looking fireplace with a warm looking fire burning in the hearth. The room was scattered with comfortable wingback chairs and lounges. It was exactly as Harry remembered it from his visit in second year.

"See if Professor Snape is done with others." Bletchley spoke to Higgs, he promptly disappeared through a door near the fireplace. Turning back towards the first years she spoke, "This is the reception room. Have a seat."

The first years tumbled over each other into the seats around the room. Harry sighed in comfort, the chairs were much more comfortable, and probably much more expensive, that anything found in Gryffindor.

"Each of you will be assigned a mentor. An older student responsible for ensuring that you succeed within Slytherin. They will become a resource, a friend."

Harry was surprised. He had never heard of students from other houses having mentors. It seemed like a decent enough idea.

"You will receive your mentor tomorrow after classes, be sure to come straight back to the dorm. Don't be late."

Suddenly, Snape strode into the room, followed closely by Higgs. He eyes scanned the room coldly before coming to rest on Harry. Harry squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. After everything Snape had done for him, for his mum, Harry respected the man. He didn't necessarily like him, though.

Finally, Snape spoke.

"This is Slytherin." He drawled. "And as you should know, I am your Head of House. I am Severus Snape."

Harry couldn't remember Professor McGonagall ever giving a speech to the first years. Did this happen in other houses? Snape's speech was more pleasant than any of the lessons Harry had ever received from the man.

"When you leave this House, you will find that others-" here Snape paused eying each of the students, "You will find that others do not convey to you the respect befitting a member of the noble House of Slytherin."

Harry wanted to laugh. Respect? Why should they be respected more than others? But Snape continued

"It has not always been this way, but our House has fallen on difficult times." He eyed Harry.

"Students will scorn you. Professors will treat you unfairly. It will be assumed that that you are a purveyor of the Dark Arts. Points shall be removed without causation. They will treat you as an inferior. It is the way of Hogwarts." By this point Snape was spitting the words. "Your time spent outside of this dormitory will not be pleasant. People will look for the worst in you and ignore the best."

That wasn't true! Harry had never noticed a bias against the Slytherin house. They were always treated fairly. It was their own fault they were slimy gits…

"But I will do all that is in my power to even the scales set against you. I will be your greatest supporter and ally. This is Slytherin, and we are family. If you find yourself in a situation, needing my assistance, do not hesitate to ask. Visit me in my office next to the Potion's classroom. You are always welcome. My door is always open to you. If I am not found in the office, I will be in my quarters. They are not far away. Merely tell one of the older students and they will lead you to me."

Snape truly was partial to his Slytherins.

"Each of you shall meet with me in my office once throughout this week to become acquainted."

"Whatever petty squabbles emerge among you, must be set aside as you leave this dormitory. It is your safe haven. But once you leave it you are in enemy territory. Once you leave this room, Slytherin is one. You are one. What insults one of us, insults all of us… Threats must be contained, they cannot be ignored."

"You must never forget that you are Slytherins. The School may stand against us, but we stand together."

The man swept dramatically from the room, his robes fluttering behind him. Harry needed to learn how to make an exit like that.

"Well then," Higgs addressed the group, "Names? Quickly now."

The students all glanced around the room at one another. It seemed as though none of them wished to speak first. After what felt like an eternity, a small blond girl spoke up.

"Tracey Davis," Harry didn't recognize the girl particularly, but he thought she was brave to speak up first.

"Theodore Nott. But people call me Theo."

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." Did Malfoy always smirk?

"Pansy Parkinson." The girl had spent most of Snape's speech glaring at Harry. He really seemed to have done something to upset the girl.

"Goyle…uh….Gregory Goyle."

"Vincent…Crabbe."

Harry was surprised the two idiots had remembered their names.

"Blaise Zabini." Ginny had once claimed that Blaise was a poser. Harry couldn't help but agree with her assessment.

"Daphne Greengrass." Daphne. So that was her name. He had never heard it before.

"Millicent Bullstrode."

The eyes all turned to Harry. "I'm Harry Potter. But I suppose you all knew that."

"Davis, Nott, Malfoy, Parkinson, Goyle, Crabbe, Zabini, Greengrass, Bullstrode, and…uh…" Bletchley looked at each of them as she spoke the names. She seemed like she was avoiding saying Harry's name. "Potter. All names you should recognize. Old families. True families."

"You need to depend on one another." Interjected Higgs.

"Never forget that you are a Slytherin. The hat put you here for a reason. It is here that you will make your true friends. It is here you will achieve greatness." Bletchley added.

With that sentiment the first years were ushered through the door near the fireplace. Harry found himself in a brightly lit, if somewhat green, room. The wall directly opposite to the door was entirely made out of glass; Harry could see deep into the murky depths of the Black Lake. Each of the remaining walls was lined with bookcases and there were students milling about discussing their holidays in small clusters.

"This is the common area. It's where you'll do most of your studying and gathering outside of classes. The notice board is on your right. Your visit times with Snape will be posted there in the morning. Come, now. It's time to head to sleep. You need to be in the Great Hall by half past seven," Bletchley said. She led the girls through a door on the right side of the room.

Higgs corralled the boys to the left.

"This is the boy's dormitory, try not to get lost. If you do, call out. Sound echoes quite well in the dungeons. Someone is bound to hear you."

Terence moved through a series of twists and turns before he stopped in front of a large green door affixed with an engraved silver 'one'.

"This will be your dorm for the next seven years. Make yourself at home. Your bathing room is across the hall" He pushed them into the room and shut the door behind them.

Harry looked around the room.

It was circular with cold stone floors, hard stone walls. But Harry didn't feel cold. There was a column in the centre of room that seemed to let off a faint glow. It seemed to be a substitute for a fireplace as it let off an uncanny amount of warmth. Six beds with drawers underneath were spread evenly around the room, inset slightly into the walls. Most interesting to Harry, however, was the ceiling. Like the wall in the common area, it appeared to be made entirely of glass.

The room was quite different than the Gryffindor dormitories, but Harry knew he would be quite comfortable here. With a nod towards his new dorm mates, Harry stumbled towards the bed with his trunk at the end.

Nott began placing his belongings onto the shelves behind his bed.

Crabbe and Goyle each tucked into a muffin they had brought from the Great Hall.

Zabini stripped down his clothes, put on his pajamas, and tucked into bed.

Malfoy had pulled out his Potions text and was lounging on the bed next to Harry, reading.

Satisfied that nobody was going to pull a cruel prank on him his first night, Harry changed into his pajamas and promptly fell asleep.


	8. A Nightmare in the Night

_-AUTHORS NOTE-_

This one is shorter than I remember it being, so I'm planning on putting up another one in the evening some time. Enjoy.

DICLAIMER-Not my characters, blah blah, you know this part. Please don't sue.

* * *

_Directly above Neville, framed in the doorway, stood a figure. His wand was aloft, his face filled white-hot fury, his magic rolling off him in waves. Harry felt the electric surge of magic surge through every particle of his body. Dumbledore was here. _

_The room seemed to stand still._

_Dumbledore looked past Harry to the only pair still fighting, completely unaware of his arrival._

_Sirius ducked under the flash of red light from his cousin's wand, laughing._

_"Come on, you can do better than that!" _

_Harry turned towards his mentor frantic. "Dumbledore! You have to help Sirius! He's going to-"_

_Dumbledore turned towards Harry, cold fury in his eyes. "Sacrifices must be made for the greater good, my boy." He turned and left the room._

_Harry screamed._

_The second jet of light streamed from Bellatrix's wand, hitting Sirius directly in the chest_

_Harry watched, his eyes widening in shock, helpless to do anything. He turned to Neville, begging for help._

_"You heard what Dumbledore said, Harry." The boy replied._

_Harry released Neville, jumping down the steps. He needed to do something. He needed to stop this._

_Why wasn't anyone helping him?_

_It seemed to take Sirius an age to sink backwards through the ragged veil._

_Harry saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on his godfathers face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment, then fell back into place._

_"SIRIUS!" Harry yelled. "SIRIUS!"_

_Lupin grabbed Harry as he sprung towards The Veil, catching him under the arm, pulling him backwards._

_"There's nothing you can do, Harry-"_

_"Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!" Harry wept._

_ "- it's too late, Harry. There's nothing you can do, Harry . . . nothing . . . he's gone."_

* * *

Harry awoke. He could feel the drenched sheets pressed to his body. They must have pulled away from the mattress during the dream.

"Nghaagh," Harry groaned. There would be no going back to sleep now.

The nightmares were starting earlier than he remembered. He hadn't had a nightmare his first night at Hogwarts before. What did the dream mean? Was it a premonition? A warning? Or were these just normal nightmares; memories of his past life that would continue to haunt him?

Harry cracked his eye open in the gloom of the Slytherin dormitory. He noticed a blurry shape across the room from him. Where were his bloody glasses? Struggling, Harry emerged victorious, placing the broken frames of his glasses across the bridge of his nose. He glanced at the shape in the bed opposite him.

Theodore Nott was sitting up in his bed watching Harry. At once Harry became suspicious of some nefarious plot the Slytherin boy must be plotting against him, but Nott just stared at him. He almost looked….curious.

After a tense moment of silence between the two boys, Nott slipped out of his bed and moved towards his trunk. He rummaged head down amid the darkness for a few moments. Harry could hear thing rattling and clanking within the chest. He even thought he heard something squeak. Finally the boy lifted his head from the trunk. He had something in his hands.

Harry's fingers tightened on the blanket as Nott approached his bed. Why didn't he sleep with his wand under his pillow? Moody had always suggested it. Harry could probably overpower the boy, but then hat? Their struggle would surely awaken the others and Harry doubted they would side with him in any fight.

But then Nott did the unexpected. He handed something to Harry. A potion vial. Then he turned around, went back to his bed, and pulled his blankets over his head. All without one word to Harry.

Harry looked down at the vial in his hand. It had a small label affixed to the label which read _Sleeping Draught._

"Thank you." Harry whispered in the darkness. He wondered if Nott could hear him.


	9. Life in the shoes of a Slytherin

-AUTHORS NOTE-

I'm going to be away from my computer for the next few days, so I won't have time to update. Don't expect to see an update on the story until the weekend. I promise to post four chapters this weekend to make up for the delay. Sorry guys.

DISCIAMER- I wish I owned Harry Potter, but sadly I don't. Guess I'll just have to be satisfied writing fanfiction. :)

* * *

Harry awoke the next morning to find the room nearly deserted. Only Zabini and Malfoy remained. Neither of the boys were awake. Harry assumed that the others has already gone up to breakfast. He was just as glad that he didn't have to face Nott. It would have been an awkward morning.

He glanced at the clock. Seven in the morning, he had a half hour before he had to be upstairs for breakfast.

Harry pulled his shirt and jumper over his head and moved to grab a tie from the neatly stacked clothing in the drawers under the bed. He stopped, marvelling at the green and silver tie which coiled around his fingers. Slytherin colors. That was something worth smiling about.

After he had finished dressing and nudged the two boys left in the dorm awake, Harry ventured into the corridor. He made his up to the Great Hall cautiously, but nobody seemed to pay much attention to a first year slipping out of the dorm.

It was a completely different story when he reached the Great Hall. Students and teachers alike were openly gaping at him, forks held halfway to their mouths, conversations halted midsentence. It was disconcerting, but Harry was used to the attention.

By the time he reached the Slytherin table, conversation seemed to have resumed, though the topic had changed.

"There, look."

"Where?"

"…Wearing the glasses…"

"Sorted into Slytherin"

"Did you see..."

"Look at his scar!"

"He's smaller than I-"

Harry quickly took an empty seat at the table, across from Nott and beside Daphne Greengrass. As much as he wanted to avoid awkward conversations with Nott, he really didn't think he would survive sitting next to Parkinson again.

"Looky, Looky," said Greengrass sardonically, "Our own little celebrity."

Harry turned to the girl, about to tell her exactly where she could stick her toast and bacon, when he noticed the quirk of her eyebrow.

She was testing him.

Never one to back away from a challenge, Harry titled his head at the girl.

"Is that what I am to you Greengrass? If you need a personal hero, I'd be more than happy to oblige. All you need to do is ask."

"The name's Daphne, Potter, you should learn it."

"Only if you call me Harry."

If he hadn't been watching the girl Harry would have missed the way her lips almost twitched into a smile. These Slytherins were much more interesting than he ever gave them credit for.

"I'm not trying to break you two lovebirds up, but I need the pumpkin juice," Nott interjected.

Harry passed it to him across the table.

"I think you'll fit in nicely in Slytherin, Potter" Said Nott in way of thanks, "there should have been a Potter here generations ago. They're so much fun to analyse."

He should have known that Slytherins would skirt around awkward issues rather than confront them head on with Gryffindor brashness. Harry figured he was going to enjoy Slytherin.

* * *

Once their little party was joined by Malfoy and Blaise the conversation turned to their classes for the year.

"What Defence professor can't even protect themselves from a Vampire?" Daphne questioned, folding her napkin on top of her plate gracefully.

"Vampire. Hmph." said Draco. "Quirrell wouldn't even be able to defend himself against a crup. Look at him. Waste of a professor."

"Defense against the Dark Arts. What rubbish!" interjected Parkinson. "We should just be studying Dark Arts."

"If they ever let Professor Snape teach, we'd definitely learn some decent Dark Arts," Davis alluded to the rumour that Snape had been vying for the Defence position since he started as a professor.

"Father says they teach Dark Arts at Durmstrang. Mother wouldn't allow me to go there, of course." Malfoy sounded almost regretful. "Too far away from home."

Harry tried to imagine a Hogwarts without Slytherin. He was surprised to find the thought left him rather panicky. He noticed that Pansy was looking sharply at Malfoy. Apparently she didn't like the thought either. Looks like they had something in common after all…

"Where's Durmstrang?" asked Harry, simply to carry on the conversation

"You don't know?" Zabini asked sarcastically.

"Hush, Blaise. Nobody knows. It's top secret. Stop acting like you're better than us. We're all Slytherin here." Tracey criticized.

Zabini huffed, he wasn't pleased to be called out by his peers. "You sound like a Hufflepuff."

Tracey let out a small shriek, obviously insulted by the accusation.

Harry noticed that both Nott, Crabbe, and Goyle had been suspiciously absent from the conversation. He wasn't surprised by the silence from Crabbe and Goyle, there was food on the table, after all. He was surprised by Nott; the boy was much quieter than he expected.

Harry looked at Nott. He was sitting quietly, reading the morning Prophet, and seemingly ignoring those around him. Harry knew better, Slytherin's were always aware of their surroundings.

He opened his mouth to address the boy when he was interrupted by a prefect behind him.

"Schedules for the term, which one of you is Millicent Bullstrode? Vincent Crabbe?"

Silence fell over the table as they examined the sheets of paper the prefect handed to them. It was Tracey Davis who finally broke the silence.

"We managed to get most of Wednesday off." She smiled. "I can sleep in!"

"No you can't," Nott looked up from the morning paper, "You weren't listening when Higgs stopped by this morning?"

"Higgs stopped by?

"Yes." Nott raised his eyebrow.

"What did he say?" Bullstrode asked.

"You'd know if you'd gotten up earlier."

"Quit being a prat, Nott." Malfoy fixed the boy with a stare.

Nott stared back. He jutted his chin forward.

"Apparently, Professor Snape has taken a queue from the Ravenclaw. We have a study schedule we need to follow on Wednesdays."

"What?! Why?" Parkinson asked.

"Higgs didn't say." Daphne offered.

"But didn't you ask?" Tracey looked confused.

"Yes. But he didn't know." Nott set down his paper. "Anyone want the paper. It's just some rubbish about Gringotts anyway."

"Gringotts? I'll take a look." Harry specifically remembered something about the vault Hagrid had taken the Philosopher's Stone from being robbed in his first year.

_Gringotts Break-In Latest_

_Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 of July, widely believed to be the work of dark wizards or witches unknown._

_Gringotts goblins insisted that no genuine artifacts had been taken. The vault that had been searched had in, in fact been emptied by the owner the previous day._

_"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you!" said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon._

_Gringotts has released an official press release stating that the vault in question is vault number seven hundred and thirteen. No other assets were compromised during this break-in._

Harry paused. Vault seven hundred-thirteen. That was most definitely the vault Hagrid had removed the Philosopher's Stone from on the request of Professor Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel. At least, Harry thought they made the withdrawal on behalf of Nicholas Flamel. He wouldn't put in past Dumbledore to secretly cheat his alchemy partner for an artifact as important as the Philosopher's Stone.

And what was this about the goblins insisting no real artifact had been taken from the vault on the 31st. Harry specifically remembered Hagrid picking up a package. The vault clearly hadn't been emptied the day before by the owner as the article claimed.

Perhaps an owl to the goblins was in order to shed some light on the situation…

* * *

After breakfast that morning Harry was cornered on his way to charms class by Fred Weasley. George was suspiciously absent, which did nothing to abate his concerns over their reaction to his sorting. When one of the twins was absent, it usually meant that they were in the middle of a prank. Or Fred was snogging Angelina.

"So, legacy." Fred eyed harry up and down, "Or should I say Harry Potter…"

"I never did say my name."

"No, you didn't."

"And I am Prong's son." Harry didn't like the way that Fred was watching him.

"There's never been a Potter in Slytherin before."

"Isn't it a fabulous prank," Harry grasped for an explanation. "Think of all the insider chaos I can design."

"It's not a prank." Harry had never heard Fred so serious before. It was quite odd.

"It's not?"

Fred paused. After a long moment he continued.

"I'm telling you this because you are a Marauder's son, not because we think we can trust a Slytherin. Prankster to prankster. This stays between us. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Last year, at our sorting, George and I almost ended up with the Snakes."

Harry was shocked. The twins never told him that! It had to be a trick. "You're lying."

"Prankster's honour. I swear it on Zonko's joke shop."

"Well, why weren't you?"

"I was sorted first, F before G and all that nonsense." Fred looked at the wall behind Harry's head. "I was so scared that the hat would separate me from George that I literally begged it to put me in in Gryffindor. All Weasleys have been in Gryffindor-"

"Kinda like all Potters."

"All Potters before now." Fred smirked at him. "Once I was sorted in Gryffindor, George begged to be in the same house as me. End of story, here we are."

Harry tried to imagine a Slytherin set of Weasley twins. It was a terrifying thought. He didn't think the school would have survived.

"We still would like to work with you. Despite the Slytherin fiasco. Your father was a legend." Fred glanced at him, "Both for the pranking bit and the dying bit."

"And the illegal animagas bit," added Harry.

"Blimey? Really?!"

"Why do you think he was called Prongs?"

"Wicked."

"If you're interested there's a toilet on the third floor that's just begging for a firecracker." Harry offered the redheaded boy.

"Another time, Potter, another time. I've got to get to Transfiguration. Minnie gets rather upset if I'm late. Can't stand to be away from me for too long, that one."

Harry snickered while Fred ran off. The twins never stopped surprising him. It was the most serious conversation he'd ever had with the twins, including giving them the prize money from the Triwizard contest! He hadn't even had is hair turned purple this time.

* * *

Charms was annoying. Flitwick made them sit alphabetically by House, which left Harry sitting between a glaring Parkinson and a scowling Zabini who was still upset about breakfast.

Flitwick wasn't nearly as complementary as Harry remembered. In fact, he took away two points from Davis because she had forgotten to polish her wand before coming to class.

Worse yet, Harry was forced to watch as Neville, Seamus, and Ron laughed together across the room. Every few seconds a paper airplane would be shot between the Neville and Ron, and then they would start laughing at whatever it contained. He had never missed his friends so much.

Harry was able to sit next to Malfoy in Transfiguration, which they shared with Hufflepuff. The pair had an excellent debate about the upcoming Quidditch season. It seemed Malfoy was an avid Falcon fan while Harry remained faithful to Puddlemere. He might be getting along with the pale boy, but they would never agree about Quidditch.

"Five points from Slytherin for whispering, Potter." Harry was shocked. He couldn't remember McGonagall ever taking points from him for whispering in class. And five points? Harry only remembered Snape removing two his first day in Potions.

"Guess Professor Snape was right," Malfoy muttered once she had turned around.

"And another five from you, Malfoy. Control yourself before you receive a detention."

When Harry transfigured his match into a nearly perfect needle at the end of lesson, he was expecting a nod of approval from the professor, maybe even a few points restored. Instead he received a look of disdain.

"You've been cheating from Mr. Goyle's work I see." Goyle's match had caught on fire, leaving a charred pile of ash that was nothing like a needle, "Another point from Slytherin."

Harry was about to argue when he felt Malfoy's nails dig into his leg painfully. He turned to the boy abruptly. Malfoy was giving him a severe look that promised retribution if Harry lost their house any more points. Harry kept his mouth shut.

History proved to be as boring as Harry remembered, but it did give Harry the chance to see Hermione across the room. She was chatting animatedly about the material with Lisa Turpin and Mandy Brocklehurst. She didn't glance in Harry's direction at all throughout the lesson, but he was pleased to see she was settling well.

At least he didn't lose any more points.

* * *

After their classes for the day, the Slytherin first years made their way quickly back to their dormitory. They didn't want to be late for the pairing. Harry was particularly anxious to see which snake he would be stuck with.

According to Bullstrode, who had spoken with her older brother during the lunch break, pairing was a Slytherin tradition that went back to the time of the Founders. Their mentors would support them with advice and connections throughout their lifetime. It was a way for Slytherins to ensure that their house had advantages unavailable to the other students.

"Blaise, my love," Harry watched as Blaise was pulled into the embrace of a stunningly beautiful dark woman with high cheek bones. "You have made me so proud."

The common room teeming with people. Apparently, families were invited to the pairing. No wonder Bletchley had been so insistent that they arrive directly after classes.

A small blonde girl jumped on Daphne. Daphne began whispering things into the girl's hair.

Crabbe and Goyle both grunted back and forth with their fathers while their mothers wept into their handkerchiefs.

Nott's mother and father stood stiffly beside him.

Lucius Malfoy had a sneer on his face, but Harry noticed he looked at his son with pride. Narcissa stood quietly beside her son, hand resting delicately on his shoulder.

Harry felt very alone.

Abruptly, Harry found himself being pulled over to the Malfoy family by Draco.

"Mother, Father. This is Harry Potter."

Harry stood absolutely still, waiting for the inevitable scorn.

Narcissa lifted her eyes demurely towards Harry.

"A Potter. In Slytherin." The man looked to his wife thoughtfully before turning towards the front of the room.

"It is time to begin." Snape stood by the noticeboard.

"As is the tradition," he continued, "the first year Slytherin's have been paired with an older student by our goblin associates."

The goblins were involved in the pairing? Harry became suddenly hopeful.

"The decision of the goblins is final, though you may take your complaints up with them." He paused, "Do not bother me with your petty concerns."

Snape waved his wand and a sheet of paper appeared on the board beside him. Nobody moved. The bat-like man strode from the room purposefully.

Suddenly, there was a rush of people as both the students and their parents moved towards the notice board.

"-Higgs."

"Montague-"

"Flint-"

Harry heard names fly through the air as he waited patiently at the side. Finally, once the others had split into their families to discuss the implications of the pairings Harry moved towards the board.

In bold print at the bottom of the page were the fateful words:

**Harry Potter (First Year, Slytherin). Adrian Pucey (Third Year, Slytherin).**


End file.
